


The Saga of the Broken Vibrator

by sunflowerseedsandscience



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, F/M, First Time, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 22:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8771905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerseedsandscience/pseuds/sunflowerseedsandscience
Summary: This began as a prompt ("I'll buy you a new one, just stop pouting!") and a joke ("What if it was about a vibrator?"), and then took on a life of its own, turning into something a little awkward, a little sweet, and all together ridiculous.





	1. Chapter 1

Scully slams the connecting door between their motel rooms, effectively ending the argument, cutting Mulder off in the middle of his latest retort. It’s nearly midnight, she’s exhausted, and it’s clear that they won’t be agreeing on anything tonight. They’d gone back and forth for hours, until finally, she’d thrown her hands up in surrender.

“Believe whatever you want to, Mulder,” she’d said, whirling on her heel and heading for her room. “You want to base your entire investigation on the word of an unreliable witness who _admits_ to having been intoxicated at the time of the murders? _Fine_.” He’d yelled something at her retreating back, but by then, she’d fully checked out of the conversation.

She kicks off her heels, barely suppressing a moan of relief as her squashed toes are finally freed from their leather prisons, and rips off her suit jacket, flinging it onto the dresser. Her blouse, skirt, bra, thigh-highs, and underwear quickly follow suit, and she flops down onto the bed, completely naked. 

She knows she should shower, but she can’t quite bring herself to get up. It’s only by imagining how long it’s likely been since the bedspread has seen a laundry room that she convinces herself to at least turn the covers down, exposing sheets that smell reassuringly of detergent and fabric softener. She lies on the bed on her back, without pulling the sheets over herself, glaring up at the ceiling, at once wound too tightly to sleep, and too exhausted to get up and do anything.

He just makes her so _angry_ sometimes. He claims to have an open mind, but really, he mostly just zeroes in on the least plausible explanation available and hangs on tight, worrying it like a dog with a bone until either it’s finally ripped from his teeth when his theory is disproven... or, infinitely worse when it comes to his ego, he turns out to be right. He can be infuriatingly myopic sometimes, as unwilling to color inside of the lines as Scully is to abandon them. It’s a miracle they haven’t killed each other yet.

Or fucked each other.

Because really... the feeling she gets in the pit of her stomach, when they’re an hour into an argument, both passionately defending their own viewpoints, their voices raising and their eyes fiery... really, when it comes down to it, that feeling isn’t all that different from the one she gets when she catches him gazing at her from across the office, or when she turns around quickly enough to catch him checking out her ass. And at least half of the time, mid-argument, the urge is there to grab him by his stupid, ugly tie and shut him up by shoving her tongue down his throat.

She glances, now, at her suitcase, standing sentinel by the bathroom door. She’s wound too tightly to sleep, but it’s far too late to go for a run... so really, there’s only one option. Dragging herself wearily off of the bed, she kicks the case onto its back and unzips it, digging into the pile of folded clothing until she finds a suspiciously bulky pair of gym socks. From within the folds of fabric, she retrieves her “on the road” vibrator. It’s smaller and quieter than her “home” vibrator, and she’s pretty sure she’s just about worn the damn thing out (it wasn’t an expensive one to begin with, and she and Mulder have a LOT of arguments on the road), but in a pinch, it’ll get the job done.

Back on the bed, she props herself up with a pillow or two and twists the dial at the base of the vibrator. For a moment, nothing happens, and she starts to panic- she’s just replaced the batteries, so the only reason for it not to work would be that it’s finally kicked the bucket- but after a few seconds, it sputters to life, and she sighs in relief.

Leaning back and closing her eyes, she gets down to business. She pushes “play” on her mental store of fantasies, calling up a well-worn favorite involving her, Mulder, and a broken-down car in the middle of nowhere. The fantasy varies a little every time she plays through it, but the salient details are generally the same- car breaks down, Mulder strips to his undershirt trying to fix it, fails, and somehow or other, ends up banging Scully from behind on the hood of the car. She’s just reaching her favorite part- the part where Mulder’s so impatient to be inside of her that he literally tears her skirt from her body- when she hears, as if from a distance, the sound of Mulder’s phone ringing in the room next door. She ignores it- whatever’s going on with the case, it can wait until morning- and she’s far too engrossed to pay attention to what he’s saying, or doing.

Which is why it’s a massive shock when he throws open the connecting door.

“Scully, you’re not gonna believe this-” But that’s as far as he gets before his eyes fall on the sight in front of him. Scully shrieks, and in a blind panic, scrabbles for the sheet to cover herself, and simultaneously flings the vibrator (still buzzing) across the room, where it strikes the wall with considerable force. It falls to the floor, where it buzzes once... twice... and finally falls silent.

“Do you ever _KNOCK_?” Scully shouts at Mulder, clutching the sheet to her naked chest.

“I did!” he protests weakly. “When you didn’t answer, I assumed you were in the shower!” He doesn’t seem to be able to tear his eyes away from her poor, abused vibrator, lying dead a few feet away from him. He moves as though to pick it up.

“DON’T TOUCH IT!” Scully shrieks, and Mulder jerks upright again. He looks over at her and immediately looks away, his face bright red.

“I, uh... I just got off the phone with the sheriff,” he says, the vibrator drawing his gaze again. “He says a fourth body’s been found, and it has the same marks as the first three.” Scully closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths, until she’s certain she can keep her voice level.

“And our suspect?” she asks.

“On the scene, stone-cold sober this time, and his story hasn’t changed,” says Mulder to the vibrator. “I’ll wait for you to get dressed, and we’ll head over.” A mischievous smile creeps onto his face. “Or if you want, I can wait a few extra minutes, if you and your friend weren’t finished.” She whips a pillow out from behind herself and hurls it at him.

“I’m pretty sure you broke it, so my _friend_ and I are permanently finished, thank you very much.” He looks over at her, his eyebrows raised.

“You’re the one who threw it, Scully!”

“Which I wouldn’t have done if you hadn’t scared the crap out of me, Mulder,” Scully says, flopping back on the bed and covering her face with the hand not clutching the sheets.

“I’ll buy you a new one, just stop pouting,” says Mulder. She lowers her arm slightly, peering at him through narrowed eyes.

“Really?”

“I promise,” he says. She sits up.

“One condition,” she says. “I go with you and pick it out.” He grins.

“You don’t trust me, Scully?”

“To know my taste in sex toys? No, Mulder, I do not. Now leave so I can get dressed, please.” Smiling and shaking his head, Mulder obliges, and Scully climbs out of bed, retrieving her discarded clothes and sliding back into them.

It makes a sort of poetic sense, Mulder purchasing her a new vibrator. If he’s going to persist in working her up- and he’s been doing it for five years, so he’s not likely to stop- the least he can do is help her relieve all that tension.

One way or another.


	2. Chapter 2

Delilah's is not a shop that Mulder has ever had any reason to enter. And while it's certainly caught his attention as he's driven by in the past, he's never had cause to imagine Scully, _his_ Scully, his straightlaced and by-the-book partner, entering such an establishment, either.

Of course, that had been before he'd walked in on her masturbating and had caused her, in her shock and embarrassment, to accidentally fling her vibrator across her motel room and into the wall, destroying it. He'd promised to buy her a new one, and she'd insisted she be present to approve his choice.

And so here he is, standing on the sidewalk in front of Delilah's, waiting, unwilling to go inside on his own, and equally apprehensive about going inside with Scully. He's terrified that she knows, somehow, that the split-second glimpse he'd gotten of her, naked and pleasuring herself, has been the fodder for nearly every masturbatory fantasy he's had since then. In truth, she's long been the subject of his fantasies... but now, he has a visual to accompany what had hitherto been a vivid mental picture of his own creation.

Mulder turns away from the fully-stocked display window to see Scully striding towards him, a no-nonsense expression on her face that he recognizes instantly. He's seen it during a hundred cases with her, and it translates roughly to, "Let's get in, get it done, and get out as quickly as possible." The knot of nervousness in his stomach loosens slightly; she's clearly almost as uncomfortable with this as he is.

"I was starting to think you weren't showing," he says as she reaches him.

"Sorry," Scully says. "I was having lunch with my mom, and... well, I didn't want to explain to her why I was meeting you here, so I had her drop me off a couple of blocks away."

"Smart move," Mulder says. "I know your mom likes me and all, but I don't think she'd be too thrilled with the idea of me buying you a vibrator."

"You're _replacing_ my vibrator," Scully corrects him, a flush already spreading over her cheeks. "Which, again, is not really a conversation I want to have with my mother." She nods towards the store. "Shall we?"

"After you," says Mulder, holding the door open for her.

Delilah's, Mulder notes, caters to a very broad range of tastes and inclinations, from the most vanilla to the most seriously kinky. Scully has clearly been here before, though, because she makes a beeline for a space on the wall dedicated to what appear to be plain, simple, straightforward vibrators, without any of the complicated (and sometimes frightening-looking) attachments sported by some of the others. She surveys the selection carefully, her lips pursed in thought.

Mulder would give anything to know exactly what's going through her mind right now.

A salesgirl approaches them, smiling brightly. "Can I help you find anything today?" she asks.

"No, we're just looking, thanks," Scully says, without taking her eyes from the display.

"Okay, well, let me know if you need help finding anything," says the girl. "We have a really great selection for couples, if you'd like me to show you." Scully turns a brilliant shade of magenta.

"That's okay," she replies. "Thanks, though."

"You sure, Scully?" whispers Mulder, after the salesgirl has left. "I hear some BDSM practices can be great for strengthening communication between partners." She spares him a withering look, then returns to browsing. She picks up a small, thin, purple vibrator, no more than four inches in length, and checks the price. 

"This is pretty similar to the old one," she remarks. "But I don't know... that one broke kind of easily, and so did the one before it."

"The one before it?" Mulder repeats. "Jesus, Scully, how many of those have you broken this year?" She glares at him again.

"The one before broke years ago," she says. "And _I_ didn't break the last one; _you_ did."

"I still dispute that," he says. "I'm not the one who hurled it at the wall."

"It was a reflexive response, Mulder," Scully says. "How do you think _you_ would respond if I barged in on you while you were... you know?"

"Well, first off, I wouldn't be using any sort of battery-operated device, and I'm unlikely to throw my own hand across the room. And second, I didn't 'barge in' on you. I knocked. You just didn't hear me." Scully crosses her arms, frowning.

"Look, Mulder, if you don't want to do this-"

"Did I say that? I'm here, aren't I? Listen, I'll admit, I should have waited for you to invite me in after I knocked, but I was anxious to tell you about the sheriff's phone call, and I honestly never expected... that." She looks down, away from him. "And you don't have to pick out a cheap little one, either, Scully. If you want something fancier, that's fine with me." The corner of Scully's mouth twitches slightly. "What?"

"'A cheap little one,'" she repeats back to him. "Guys always think it's about size, don't they?" She grins and shakes her head. "The one that broke was just the one I took on the road, Mulder. It didn't need to be big and fancy."

"So it was your... travel vibrator?" He's thoroughly mystified. "I've heard of travel-sized toiletries and toothbrushes, but never a travel-sized sex toy." Something occurs to him. "Wait... so that means you have another one at home?" She glances up at him, embarrassed again, and nods. "More than one?" Another nod. "How many?"

"None of your business," she snaps.

"Hey, sorry," he says, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'm just curious. The solo sexual habits of the average American woman aren't something I'm that familiar with." He scans the selection of vibrators critically. "But listen, Scully, out-of-town cases are typically pretty stressful, aren't they?"

"With you? Always," she says, smiling wryly.

"So why go for something simple? With what we go through, you deserve all the stress relief you can get." His eyes fall on something that looks like a pair of unequally-sized rabbit ears, curving in towards each other. He takes it down off the wall and flips it over, reading the description on the box. "Look, this one has seven different speeds and settings, including three that 'realistically mimic the feel of oral sex.'" He whistles, impressed. "Why can't they make something that does that for guys?" He glances down at her to find she's the brightest shade of red so far. He knows this is awkward for her, that she's uncomfortable... but he can't resist tormenting her just a little more. "What's wrong, Scully?" he asks.

"I'm fine, Mulder," she says, not meeting his eye.

"Do you not like oral sex?"

"Of course I do," she snaps. He knows the kind thing to do would be to back off, but he can't help it. It's just too easy to wind her up.

"Well, what's the problem, then?"

"That one's too expensive, Mulder," she says. "I told you, I don't need something that fancy."

"What if I _want_ to buy you something that fancy, Scully?" he asks. 

"Why?" _So you'll think of me when you use it_ , he wants to say, but something tells him that this would not be well-received at the moment. Instead, he just shrugs.

"Because you're my friend," he says. "And because I'm sorry about what happened to your old one, and I feel bad for embarrassing you. Plus," he elbows her playfully, grinning, "I'm well aware that having a relaxed and happy Scully is definitely in my best interests." She smiles reluctantly.

"Well, most of the stress I experience on the road can be traced back to you," she says. "Okay, I guess. Get that one." He smiles broadly.

"You need anything else, while we're here?" he asks. "They've got some videos over there by the counter. You want to pick something out for visual stimulation?" For some reason, she won't meet his eyes.

"No, thanks," she says. "I've got enough material in my head if I need it. Feel free to grab something for yourself, though, if you want." He desperately wants to ask what sorts of scenes the material in her head features, but that would be pushing things a bit too far.

"Nah, I'm good," he says. "I've got a pretty decent selection already, as I'm sure you're well aware. Anytime you want to borrow something, Scully, you just say the word." She sighs.

"Mulder," she says, quietly, "I know you like to joke about this, but... it makes me uncomfortable, talking about it with you, okay?"

"Yeah, I'm kinda getting that feeling," he says. "But listen, Scully... you don't need to be, okay? What happened in the motel, what I saw, all of this... it doesn't change my opinion of you. I don't think you're any less capable or any less of a professional just because you have a normal, healthy sex drive." 

"I didn't think it did change your opinion of me," she says. "That's not why it makes me uncomfortable."

"Then why?" She sighs and looks away.

"This isn't really the place for this conversation," she says. He reaches out and lays a finger alongside her chin, gently turning her back to face him.

“Scully, you can talk to me,” he says. He thinks he may be getting the idea, but it might also just be wishful thinking on his part.

“Not about this, I can’t,” she protests.

“Yes, about this,” he insists. “About anything. I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to hold back.” He swallows and decides to take the plunge. The situation, after all, could not get much more awkward. “Especially not when I really, really don’t want you to hold back at all.” It takes a moment for his words to sink in... and when they do, her blue eyes open wider than he’s ever seen before. “So how about I go and pay for this, and we can go somewhere that we can have this conversation properly?” Eyes still the size of saucers, she nods.

“Okay,” she whispers, and he leaves her waiting there as he heads to the register.

He makes sure to tuck the receipt away somewhere safe. If this conversation goes as well as he’s hoping it will, he thinks there’s an excellent chance that this purchase will no longer be necessary.


	3. Chapter 3

It's maybe not the most awkward car ride Scully has ever experienced in her life- that honor goes to the time Ahab drove her home after discovering her topless on the beach at night with her high school boyfriend- but this is a close second. Mulder, bless him, is doing his very best to play it cool, whistling as he drives, shooting her the occasional reassuring smile. His right arm rests on the center console, palm facing up, an open invitation she's not sure she's brave enough to accept.

On the floor is the bag containing his purchase from Delilah's. It thumps against her leg with every sudden motion of the car.

He's said that he doesn't want her to hold back, not at all. But how did he mean it? Did he mean he doesn't want her to hold back on telling him what her fantasies are? Or does he not want her to hold back when it comes to sex in general? She can't decide which idea she's more apprehensive about. Taking that final leap with Mulder, crossing over that line they've been dancing around for ages, is scary, to be sure. But telling him her most secret desires, laying herself emotionally bare before him? That, for her, is the very definition of terror.

"You all right, Scully?" Mulder asks, and she jumps, startled.

"I'm fine," she says automatically. He glances over at her, and his eyes are kind.

"I meant what I said, Scully," he says. "Nothing you could tell me would make me think less of you." His smile is gentle and honest, and she knows, at least on some level, that he's telling the truth. She has no doubts about his attraction to her- she hasn't for some time- but still, discussing her fantasies isn't something she's felt comfortable doing with any man, ever. Including men she's been intimate with.

"Your place or mine?" Mulder asks, as he stops at an intersection to turn off of the street Delilah's is on. Scully thinks it over. If they go to his place, she'll have the option of escaping if things become more than she can handle, whereas it could be more difficult to forcibly evict Mulder from her apartment. She glances at Mulder, who is waiting patiently for her response. His hand still lies, palm-up, on the center console. She reaches over and slips her fingers into his.

"My place," she says. Mulder grins, gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, and turns left.

Mulder carries the Delilah's bag into her building without discussion. Scully holds her breath the entire walk to her door, imagining what her neighbors will likely assume if they notice her bringing home a man carrying purchases from a reasonably well-known sex shop. She wishes he wouldn't swing the bag around quite so casually.

As soon as they're inside, she takes the bag from him and stashes it in her coat closet.

"That's an interesting place to store it," remarks Mulder, grinning mischievously. "Is that where you keep the rest of your collection?" He starts to open the coat closet, but Scully reaches past him and slams it shut again.

"Of course not," she snaps. "I'm just putting it there for now, okay?"

"Okay, okay," he says, hands up in surrender. He heads for the kitchen. "Want me to open a bottle of wine?"

"Mulder, it's two o'clock in the afternoon," says Scully.

"I know," he says. "But you look a little nervous, Scully. I thought you might like a little liquid courage." Scully contemplates this for a moment; then, with a decisive nod, she goes to the counter and selects a bottle of red wine, pouring them both a glass. She carries hers to the couch and sits down, and Mulder follows her lead. He looks at her expectantly for a moment. Scully opens her mouth to speak....

...and nothing comes out.

She can't do this. She just doesn't have it in her. Mulder's eyes are kind, reassuring, and the look he's giving her is one that's always set her at ease, but this is different. It's not even the sexual nature of the conversation that's got her stomach in knots, at this point. It's the fact that most of her fantasies- okay, _all_ of them at this point- involve _him._

"If you want," Mulder says, without a trace of teasing in his voice, "I can go first. Will that help?" She hesitates. She's all but certain that Mulder's fantasies- or at least the ones he's about to share with her- are going involve her in some way... but there's always a chance they won't. How humiliating would it be for her to tell him, in detail, some of the ways she's imagined him taking her, only to have his own version involve the nameless women from his video collection?

"Yeah," she whispers. "You go first." Mulder nods decisively and takes a deep pull from his wineglass.

"I've had the time to imagine countless scenarios," he says, looking her directly in the eyes. "But my all-time favorite... it has to be the office." Scully raises her eyebrows.

"Our office?" He nods.

"The same," he says. "And it varies, depending on how... how dominant I'm feeling." Scully's mouth goes dry, in spite of the wine.

"Dominant?"

"Yeah," he says. "Or... I guess you could say selfish." She bites her lip, thinking.

"Start with the ones where you're more... selfish," she says quietly. "More... _dominant._ "

"Well... in that one, I'm sitting at the desk, working on something, some file, and you're leaning against the desk next to me."

" _I_ am?" Her voice is almost inaudible. She'd all but known... but even so, the confirmation sends a flood of warmth all through her. Mulder smiles.

"Yeah, you," he says. "Who'd you think I've been fantasizing about?" She blushes and ducks her head. "Anyway... there's some conversation, never anything specific, but that part's not important, of course. And then... at some point... you give me this pointed look, and you say, 'You look tense, Mulder. Let me help you relieve some of that stress.'" At this point, Scully can't help it. She lets out a loud snort of laughter.

"Is that a line women ever use in real life, Mulder?" she asks. "Outside of your video collection?" Mulder grins sheepishly.

"Hey, don't knock my fantasy, Scully," he says. "Anyway, you push my desk chair back and crouch down in front of me, and you unbuckle my belt and unzip my pants, and you reach in and take my-"

"Yes, I think I see where this is going," says Scully quickly. She feels so hot that she thinks her entire body may be flushing. Mulder grins unabashedly.

"Basically, you give me the best head I've ever had in my life," he says. "That's how my more selfish fantasy starts out. Though, really... I'd probably enjoy the way the other version starts just as much, if I'm being honest."

"How...." Scully licks her lips, drinks more of her wine. "How does that one start?"

"In that one," says Mulder, leaning slightly closer, "It starts the same, with you leaning up against my desk, not quite sitting on it, but close... but in this version, _I'm_ the one who ends up on my knees in front of _you._ " Scully can't keep from inhaling sharply. She feels a flood of wet warmth between her thighs, and she shifts uncomfortably on the sofa. "You're wearing a skirt, and I push it up around your hips and find you've got nothing on underneath it... and I just go to town, Scully. I bury my face between your legs and eat your pussy like I'm starved for it."

" _Mulder!_ " she exclaims.

"What?" he asks innocently. "Given the opportunity, I'm pretty sure that's exactly how I'd do it. But anyway... both fantasies kind of merge at the point. Basically, I sweep my desk totally clear- or you do, depending on my mood- and either I lay you down on top of it or I turn you around over it and take you from behind."

"Depending on your mood." She can barely look at him.

"You got it." He drinks more of his wine and settles back on the sofa. "So that's me. How about you, Scully?" 

"I... um...." She looks down at her wineglass and notices that it's nearly empty. "I need more wine first, okay?" He nods, smiling encouragingly. She goes back to the kitchen and refills her glass, then stands at the counter, taking slow, deep, even breaths, trying desperately to calm herself down. _It's Mulder,_ she reminds herself sternly. _You trust him more than anyone else in the world. And besides, he's just told you, in no uncertain terms, that you're not the only one who's been fantasizing about the two of you._

Mulder hasn't moved when she returns to the living room and takes her seat beside him again. He gives her the same reassuring look he gave her in the car, the look that reminds her, as clearly as if he'd spoken out loud, that she never has to censor what she tells him, never has to worry that he'll judge her for what she says.

"In mine," she begins, her voice soft, her eyes fixed firmly on the coffee table, "we're driving, on a rural road, late at night."

"On a case?" Mulder asks.

"Yeah," she says. "We're on our way somewhere in the middle of the night, and the rental car breaks down. You get out of the car and go around the front and open the hood, but you can't figure out what's wrong, so you put the hood back down. You... um...." She takes a long swallow of her wine. "You start getting sweaty, so... you take off your shirt." She glances at Mulder just long enough to see that he's grinning. "And there are words... we talk... but like you said, what we say isn't really important. You... you kiss me... and you press me up against the front bumper... and I can feel how much you want me."

Scully feels Mulder's fingers on her chin, gently turning her to face him. The teasing expression is gone from his face, and his eyes are dark with lust. She realizes with a jolt that he's looking at her exactly the same way he does in her imagination.

Suddenly, she feels much more into this.

"Once I feel that, I can't hold back any longer, and neither can you," she says, her voice stronger now. "You turn me around, face me towards the car." Mulder licks his lip and leans in closer. "You try to undo my skirt, but you can't find the clasp... so you shove it up towards my hips, but you grab it too hard and you tear it." She can't look away from his eyes. "I put my hands flat on the hood of the car and spread my legs apart. You pull my underwear off... and take me by the hips, and you fuck me from behind." Mulder closes his eyes and groans.

"Hard?"

" _So_ hard." Mulder opens his eyes, his pupils completely dilated. 

"Scully," he says, his voice hoarse, "Anytime you want to act that fantasy out, you just say the word." She blushes and looks down. “I wouldn’t mind acting it out now, but the nearest rural road is at least an hour away, and I don’t think your neighbors would appreciate us acting it out on your car out front.” Scully laughs.  
“No, probably not,” she says. She glances back up at Mulder to see he’s looking thoughtful. “What?”

“I have another fantasy,” he says, his voice tentative, almost nervous. “It’s... it’s a new one.” Scully raises her eyebrows.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It... it takes place in a motel room.” Scully thinks she sees where this is going, and she shivers slightly in anticipation. Mulder glances towards the coat closet, then back at Scully. “And it’s been dominating my thoughts for weeks now. Most of the time, I feel like I can’t think about anything else.”

“Mulder,” whispers Scully, not quite certain where her courage is coming from, “do you want to tell me this fantasy... or show me?” Mulder takes one more long swallow of wine, then grabs Scully’s glass from her and puts them both down on the coffee table. He takes her by the hand and all but drags her to her bedroom, stopping at the coat closet to grab the bag from Delilah’s on the way.


	4. Chapter 4

Mulder, to Scully’s everlasting shock and surprise, becomes shy and uncertain the moment he has her in her bedroom.

“Scully, I feel like maybe I’ve pushed you into this,” he says. "I feel like I’ve been presumptuous, and I’ve made you admit to things you might not have been ready to tell me, and now I’ve got you in here and I’m a little worried that maybe I’ve pressured you into it.“ Scully finds the way he ducks his head and stares at his feet to be incredibly endearing. She smiles and walks towards him.

"Mulder,” she says, “maybe you _did_ push me into admitting that I want this, but I’d say it was an overdue admission, wouldn’t you?” She takes the hand not holding the bag from Delilah’s and presses his fingers softly to her lips, then gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Now why don’t you give me that bag?“ He hands it to her wordlessly, and she pulls out his earlier purchase and removes it from its packaging.

"Do you… um… does it need batteries?” Mulder peers at it over her shoulder.

“Nope,” she replies. "This baby plugs in to charge, and I’m willing to bet….“ She pushes a button at the base, and the vibrator buzzes to life. Mulder jumps about a foot and she laughs, turning it back off again. "I’ve found most rechargeable electronics are sold at least partially charged, even if the packaging advises you to charge it before you use it.”

“Do you have a lot of rechargeable… um… toys?” Mulder asks, intrigued.

“That applies to _all_ electronics,” she says. Silence falls between them, and while it’s not quite awkward, there’s definitely a palpable tension in the air. "So… how exactly do you want to do this, Mulder? It’s your fantasy, after all.“ Mulder gives her a look.

"I think you know exactly what I have in mind, Scully,” he says.

“The broad strokes, yes,” she says, stepping closer to him. "But not the details. I’m assuming it begins the same way it did in the motel room?“ He nods. "So… do you want to wait outside while I… get started?” She moves closer still, close enough that they’ll be pressed together if they both take a deep breath. Mulder’s eyes darken again and he bites his lip. "Or would you rather be in here, with me?“

"I have no idea, Scully, but if I don’t kiss you right this second, I’m gonna die,” says Mulder in a rush, and before Scully can respond he gathers her into his arms and presses his lips to hers. She’s lost, instantly, in a rush of heat and sensations, the sweet taste of his mouth and the scent of his aftershave in her nose, his hands pressing urgently into the small of her back, his fingers dipping daringly down, below her hips, to the upper swell of her ass. His tongue plunders her mouth as he steals her breath, holding her so tight that she feels lightheaded.

This is more than just a kiss. He is taking possession of her.

She wants badly for it to continue, wants it more than she’s ever wanted anything… but as tall as he is, with her wearing her casual weekend flats instead of heels, her head is thrown back at an unnatural, unsustainable angle. She breaks the kiss and tries to step back, but Mulder’s lips chase hers, his arms remaining tight around her body.

“Mulder, wait,” she says.

“Don’t want to,” he murmurs against her mouth. "You taste so good, Scully. Can’t stop.“ She leans back even further, and his mouth lands at her neck.

"Mulder, this angle doesn’t work for me. Do you have any concern whatsover for the state of my neck?” He stops and draws back up to his full height, looking down at her as though surprised to find her standing so much lower than him. But he’s nothing if not resourceful, and scant seconds later, he’s slid one arm under her ass and has lifted her up against him.

Taken by surprise, Scully wraps her legs around his waist mostly by reflex, clutching him tightly around the neck as he goes back in for another kiss. Just like in her own fantasy, she can easily feel the evidence of his desire for her. Confronted with it in real life for the first time, she can’t help grinding against him, and he groans into her throat and squeezes her even closer. He backs up, carefully, until he can sit on the edge of her bed, keeping her in his lap, pressed firmly against his erection, which he thrusts up at her in uneven intervals. Once he’s certain she’s not going to fall, his hands leave her back and travel to the buttons on the front of her shirt. Scully breaks the kiss.

“Hang on,” she says. “Your fantasy doesn’t start like this.”

“ _That_ fantasy doesn’t,” he says, determinedly unbuttoning her blouse. “But getting to take your clothes off is a fantasy I’ve had for a lot longer.”

She’s hardly one to deny him fulfillment of a wish he’s been harboring for years… and in any case, now that he’s gotten her blouse unbuttoned and the front closure of her bra undone, his hands are doing truly spectacular things to her breasts. And once he drops his head and his mouth gets into the act, the very last thing she wants is for him to stop.

Mulder spends more time on her breasts than any of her previous lovers have devoted to foreplay in its entirety. Scully, though, is anything but bored. She figures that if Mulder has devoted as much time to imagining what’s been hidden by her clothing as she’s spent thinking about what’s under his, it’s only natural for him to want to practically take up residence between her breasts, now that they’ve been revealed to him.

When she does stop him, it’s because she’s so incredibly worked up, so aroused, that she knows there’s going to be a dark patch on Mulder’s jeans when she finally moves. She yanks at the hem of Mulder’s t-shirt until he takes the hint and rips it over his head, flinging it to the floor. She kisses her way down his neck and bites at his shoulder. Mulder gasps and picks her up again, flipping her onto her back against the pillows.

“So here’s where I’d really like to incorporate at least _part_ of my fantasy,” he says, unbuttoning her jeans. She lifts her hips and allows him to slide them down, along with her panties. He doesn’t touch her yet, though. Instead, he stands, retrieving the now-unwrapped vibrator from where Scully had dropped it when he’d picked her up. Scully bites her lip, suddenly nervous.

“You want to watch me… do that?” She swallows. 

“I want to watch you pleasure yourself, yes,” he says.

“Wouldn’t _you_ rather pleasure me?” His grin is bordering on wicked.

“I’m going to help,” he says.

“I thought you just fantasized that you walked in on me doing it, and then we made love.”

“That, too,” says Mulder, “but I never imagined you stopping right away.” He puts the vibrator in her hand and closes her fingers over it. “Please, Scully? It’s just me. You don’t have to be scared.” She closes her eyes for a moment, gathering her nerve. She hadn’t thought, until now, that Mulder wanted to watch her doing _that_ for more than a moment or two. It feels to her like what Mulder is asking is almost more intimate than what they’ve just been doing.

But when she opens her eyes and meets his gaze, she knows he’s right, just from the look on his face. She doesn’t have to be scared of him, or of what he’ll think of her.

“Okay,” she says. Mulder beams at her and kisses her sweetly. He watches as she takes the vibrator and carefully eases it into herself, situating the smaller portion against her clit. She’s so wet, there’s no need for lubrication. Mulder props himself up on one elbow for a better look. Scully presses the button on the base once, activating the lowest setting, and as the vibrator hums to life, she drops her head back against the pillows with a breathy moan. Immediately, Mulder begins kissing along her neck, moving downward, nibbling along her collarbone. When his mouth latches onto her nipple, the combined sensations are almost too much, and she arches up off of the bed.

Mulder lets out a throaty chuckle. He can’t seem to decide which he’d rather look at- her face, contorting in ecstasy, or her hands, busy between her legs- and he switches back and forth frequently. His attention is somehow even more arousing, and Scully knows she will definitely not be exploring all the different settings on her new vibrator today. Not when she’s already on the cusp of an orgasm after only a few short minutes.

As she nears her climax, though, Scully begins to feel that this is all wrong. Not because she’s shy or uncomfortable- those feelings are long gone, at this point- but because there’s a sense of being incomplete, lacking something. She holds down the button on the vibrator, turning it off, and withdraws it from herself. Mulder makes a noise of protest and looks up at her, chagrined. 

“Scully, why-”

“Because I don’t want to come like that, Mulder,” she says. “I want to come with _you_ inside of me, not a hunk of plastic and metal.” His slow smile says, all too clearly, that he likes that idea, too.

“Hold that thought,” he says, and stands, kicking off his shoes, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans, and pushing everything off. He climbs back onto the bed, naked, and kisses her long and deep. “How?” he asks, his voice raspy with desire. “Like in your fantasy, only the bed is the hood of the car?” Scully laughs.

“That’s only going to work if I’m in my four-inch heels, Mulder,” she says. She reaches out and takes hold of him. “And I can’t wait for this long enough to go and get them.” She guides him to lie between her legs.

“Wouldn’t want to make you wait,” whispers Mulder, as he looks down, watching himself enter her in one long, smooth, liquid slide.

For a moment, it’s too overwhelming for both of them, and they cannot do anything but rest, completely still, their foreheads pressed together, breathing in concert. Scully very nearly has tears in her eyes, and when she looks up at Mulder, she sees that he does, too.

“Scully,” he says, his voice hoarse and rich with emotion. She can’t find any words at all, not even his name, and so she kisses him instead, clutching his head to her.

Then Mulder begins to move, and she loses the ability to do anything at all except to rock against him and bite at his neck, sometimes gently, sometimes not. She’s incredibly grateful for Mulder’s request to watch her as her orgasm rushes at her, because if the sounds he’s making are anything to go by, this is going to be over quickly, and she knows Mulder well enough to be certain that he’ll feel no end of guilt if he finishes before her.

When she does come, crying out his name and scratching her nails across his back, Mulder studies her face with an intensity that would, only an hour ago, have made her nervous and uncomfortable. Now, though, she knows he’s simply committing every single detail of this to memory, forming a picture he’ll carry with him forever. He follows her moments later, all but sobbing in ecstasy, jerking hard against her as his climax consumes him.

With as much as Mulder outweighs her, Scully is grateful that he doesn’t immediately collapse on top of her. He’s trying hard to support himself on his elbows, but she can feel his arms trembling… so as much as she wants to keep him inside of her forever, she nudges him gently to lie on his side.

“Oh my God, Scully,” he gasps, sliding his hand up and down the curve of her waist. “I want to do that all the time. Every day. Every _where_.” She laughs.

“Everywhere, Mulder?” she asks.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “Your place. My place. Our cars. Rental cars, motel rooms, in fields, in the woods, on the beach… in the office, Scully. Oh my God, I want to do it in the office. I know it’s technically inappropriate, but I really don’t care.”

“Only _technically_ inappropriate?” She shakes her head. “You’ve got a pretty broad interpretation of FBI policy if you think sex in our office would only be _technically_ inappropriate.” He snuggles into her neck, nipping at the skin behind her ear.

“Don’t care,” he says, his voice muffled. “Still want to do it.” She shakes her head.

“Let’s start with our apartments, okay?” she suggests. “And then we’ll see where we go from there.”


End file.
